


your face doesn't look so innocent

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, Mission Fic, Ray gets seduced bless him, inspired by the music video for Taylor Swift and Sugarland's song Babe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: “So, let me get this straight,” Sara says, staring up at her, something between a smile and a smirk on her face. “‘Something’ ismaybewrong in LA in 1965.”“Yes, that's what I just said,” Ava says, exasperated.“But you can't be more specific?”





	your face doesn't look so innocent

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! This fic was obviously not planned until literally like three days ago when it was revealed that BRANDON is in a [music video ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l25AL0BdD6w&feature=share) with Taylor which you should ALL WATCH BC ITS A MASTERPIECE and like y'all must know by now that Taylor is my other obsession from..... how much I use her lyrics as fic titles so THIS happened
> 
> Fic title is..... obviously from Babe

The problem with time demons, Ava quickly finds out, is that their effects are much harder to track than those of simple anachronisms.

Rip had built the Bureau tech specifically around the anachronisms created by the Legends breaking time, and had modified it slightly when Mallus has reared his head.

But these demons they're tracking now, low-level demons that seem intent purely on causing mischief, aren't something they're prepared for. They fly under the radar, their actions too small to detect, but still big enough to disturb the timeline.

Which is how she gets where she is right now: on the Waverider, getting mercilessly teased by Sara because all she can say is that _something_ is wrong, and not much more than that.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sara says, staring up at her, something between a smile and a smirk on her face. “‘Something’ is _maybe_ wrong in LA in 1965.”

“Yes, that's what I just said,” Ava says, exasperated.

“But you can't be more specific?”

“No, I already told you, the technology we have—”

“—is a piece of crap and that's why you need us and our excellent technology to figure out the problem?” Sara suggests, her smile turning cheeky.

Ava just glares back. It only makes Sara’s smile wider.

“I wouldn't have said it exactly like that, but…”

“But what, Aves?”

“But, yes, we need your help.”

Sara nods in appreciation. “That's all you had to say, Director,” she says, moving from the library to the console.

Ava follows her, resigned. “Everyone at the Bureau already thinks I can't control you. This isn't going to help.”

Sara spins around, pausing where she stands. Ava almost collides with her. Sara's expression is reproachful. “Ava. Baby. You _know_ you can't control me.”

Ava sighs. “Yeah, but sometimes it would be nice to pretend I can.”

“Where's the fun in that, though?” Sara looks at her, raises an eyebrow, and turns back around, before finally making it to the console. “Gideon. Tell me what's wrong.”

Gideon speaks up immediately. “I'm afraid that's not entirely possible, Captain. My systems are only slightly more advanced than those of the Bureau. The only extra information I can give you is the exact location of the problem. No information on the exact nature of the disturbance is available.”

Sara slams her hands down. The noise is loud. “Seriously? That's all?”

“That’s all.”

Sara’s hand goes to her ear, and then she's hissing, in a low voice that Ava can absolutely still hear, but that she pretends not to, “I kinda told Ava I'd be able to help with this. You're making me look bad.”

“Awfully sorry, Captain, but all I'm able to tell you is that the problem is at an advertising agency in Los Angeles.” Gideon says this out loud, not into Sara's earpiece. Ava can almost hear her smiling.

Sara turns back to Ava, her arms crossing, immediately defensive. It's Ava’s turn to smile.

She closes the distance still between them, slowly, until she's in front of Sara, her hands finding Sara’s arms, easing the tension out of them.

“What was that you said about how your technology was so much better than ours?” she teases, looking down at Sara with the small smile still on her face.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sara says. “You win.”

Ava looks at Sara, at the tiny crease between her eyebrows that appears when she's pissed, at her mouth set in a hard line, and feels nothing but endearment.

“I’m always winning when I'm with you.”

“Oh my god, stop being such a sap.” But Sara's smiling and Ava knows she likes it. “Just kiss me so I don't have to look at your smug face any longer.”

“I'm not smug, I'm just—”

Ava is cut off when Sara seemingly decides to forego waiting for Ava to do it, pulling Ava’s mouth down instead.

They don't break apart until Gideon speaks again. “I hate to interrupt, but, if I may interject, I would like to point out that _neither_ of you have won because we are still in the dark as to the actions of the time demon.”

Sara pulls away, almost guilty. “Right. Time demon. We should get on that.”

Ava coughs, looks down at where her suit is noticeably rumpled.

Sara's eyes follow her gaze, and then her fingers are going to the jacket, not to pull Ava back in, but to straighten it out.

It's unbearably soft.

“Now who's being a sap?” Ava asks.

Sara rolls her eyes. “If you're going to make fun of me, I'll just stop doing it.”

“I'm not making fun of you. I like it.”

Sara takes in a breath, something moving over her face, too fleeting to register, and then she's turning away.

“Gideon? Call a team meeting.”

  
Hardly two hours later, they're all geared up, looking like they've just stepped straight off the set of Mad Men.

Ava squirms next to Sara, tugging at her skirt.

“I fucking hate dresses.”

Sara looks at her, sweeps her eyes up and down. “Nah, you look good.”

“You always say that,” Ava says, sighing.

“That's because it's always true.”

Ava ignores this. Sara is too liberal with her compliments, and it's easier to ignore them than try to get her to stop. “Anyway,” Ava continues. “I didn't say I didn't look good. I just said that I hate it.”

“It's just going to be for a day, babe.”

Ava crosses her arms, her jaw tight. “I still don't like it.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Sara says.

Ava tilts her head. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sara says, smirking. “Promise. You just gotta get through this, first.”

Ava shakes her head, looks down at her clothes once more. “Fine.”

Sara smiles, before turning to the team, and raising her voice.

“Okay kids, shut up.”

They do, immediately, all eyes turning to Sara.

“There's something wrong in this ad agency. We don't know what exactly it is, so we just have to figure it out for ourselves. It's a big business, so no-one is going to notice if we slide in for a day. Nate and Ray are taking separate departments. You're visiting with pitches for the agency. I'm gonna go with Nate as his assistant. Ava, you're going with Ray—”

Ray turns to Sara, wide-eyed. Apparently he's still scared of Ava.

Sara looks at him. “Anything you want to say about my girlfriend, Ray?”

Ray shakes his head.

Sara nods, satisfied. “Zari, you're going in as a temp. Mick, you're going to be in—”

“If you put me in a suit, I'm not doing it.”

“God, if anyone would ever let me finish. Mick, you're in custodial,” Sara finishes, rolling her eyes.

Mick makes a grunt that Ava supposes is agreement.

“Everyone got it?” Sara asks. They nod, murmurs of assent going around the room. “Okay. Back here in ten.” She turns to Ava. “Look after Ray, okay? I know he did the whole corporate thing back in Star City, but it's been a while.”

“I'm not going to let anything happen to your team members, Sara,” Ava says, almost offended Sara thinks she might. “Although you and I both know I would be much better in his place. And you'd be better in Nate’s place.”

Sara shrugs. “It's the sixties, babe.”

“I know. But doesn't it make you kinda mad?”

“I'm used to it. Just go with it, Aves. And when it's all sorted and we’re back here, you can be the one in charge all you want.” She slows her voice at the last three words, rolling them off her tongue.

Ava can't help but blush. “Stop that.”

“What? Flirting with you? Never.”

“You're going to have to when we’re in there. Don't think they'd like two _assistants_ flirting.”

“I'll find a way,” Sara says, and Ava doesn't doubt that.

  
Two hours later, Ava is sitting in a meeting, pretending to take notes, and trying not to cringe as Ray botches his way through what she supposes is maybe meant to be a pitch.

She's only half concentrating, because, every so often, Sara appears in her ear.

Apparently, _Sara_ isn't confined to a meeting, or maybe she's just much more brazen, because her voice isn't particularly quiet.

Ava can't say anything back and risk being heard, so she just has to listen.

At one point, she tries to subtly turn off Sara’s channel, but Sara keeps talking, unfazed.

“Turning it off isn't going to work, babe. They're designed to automatically turn back on as soon as someone needs to get to you. You know. For _emergencies_.”

Ava wants to point out that this is in no way an emergency, but she can't, and Sara knows this.

She also knows she can't take out the earpiece, in case anyone _actually_ has anything important to say. So she just sits, and, eventually, Sara goes quiet, no longer teasing.

Maybe she's stuck in a meeting as well.

Forty-five minutes later, Ray seems to be wrapping up.

A minute later, they're out of the office, being ushered into some sort of lounge area.

Ray looks at her. “How was I?”

“Hmm?” Ava, once again, is only half-listening, because her earpiece is crackling back to life.

There's no sound from the other end, and the anticipation is almost worse than anything Sara could actually say.

She shifts in her seat. 

“How did I do? Was I okay? I haven't had to do meetings in years." Ray's voice is earnest. 

“You were fine,” she says, brusquely, and this seems to placate him. “More importantly, did they mention anything off around here?”

“Were you not listening?” Ray almost looks disappointed.

“I was slightly… distracted.”

In her ear, Sara laughs, quietly.

“By what?” Ray asks, his expression bemused.

Ava rolls her eyes. “Sara,” she says, hurriedly, hoping that will be enough explanation, hoping Ray will drop it and move on.

Hoping that the thought of what Sara might’ve been saying is enough to scare him away.

Sara laughs again. Ava turns away from Ray slightly. 

“Stop listening in,” Ava hisses.

“But then how am I supposed to know if you’re talking shit about me behind my back?” Sara says, her voice a quiet whisper, teasing.

“I'd never do that,” Ava says, offended. “I'm not twelve.”

“I know that. It was a _joke_ , babe.” Sara pauses, then turns back to business easily, flipping like a switch. Ava can't do that quite as well. “Did Ray find out anything?”

Ava looks over at Ray, who is obviously trying very hard not to look like he's listening in, and repeats the question to him. He shakes his head.

“No,” Ava relays.

“Me neither,” Sara says, sighing. “I guess we keep looking.”

“Yep,” Ava agrees, turning back to Ray. “I guess we keep looking.”

It's at that moment that the doors open, and two women walk in.

One of them, a woman in pink with red hair, looks vaguely familiar to Ava, but she can't put a finger on it, and, in any case, she wouldn't recognize anyone in the sixties anyway.

She probably just looks like someone.

She doesn't have time to think any more about it before they're settling down next to them, the redhead next to Ray, and the other one, slightly shorter and with brown hair, settles next to Ava.

She closes her eyes for half a second, then falls into character: the smiling assistant.

The girl next to her smiles back. If Ava plays her cards right, she might be able to figure out what is wrong—assistants and secretaries are usually the ones who see what is going on, even when the high-ups don't.

Ava starts up the small talk, keeping the smile plastered on her face. The woman, who introduces herself as Betty, seems accommodating, and starts chattering away.

Ava is only half concentrating, just enough to keep up the conversation, enough to make an affirmative noise when needed.

She's only half concentrating because the other half of her concentration is on the redhead, and how she seems to be shifting closer and closer to Ray.

“What was your name again, honey?”

Ava drags her gaze back. “Ava.”

Betty’s voice goes low, her eyes understanding, full of pity. “Is he your man? I know how they can be.” She pauses. "I can get her to stop if you want. She's new."

Ava is momentarily lost, not sure what she could be talking about, and then realises she's being asked if she's with _Ray_ , and she has to stop herself from bursting into laughter.

“No. I'm just his… assistant.”

When Ava looks back up, the redhead’s fingers are on Ray’s sleeve, her eyes wide and he looks more than a little alarmed.

The redhead is _definitely_ familiar, but Ava is still stuck, can't quite figure it out.

She turns back to Betty, ignoring Ray. Maybe he’ll be able to get something out of this woman who, for whatever reason, is clearly interested in him, but, if not, she has to keep trying.

But if Betty knows anything about what might be wrong, she's withholding it, and when Ava next looks over, the woman is leaning so close it's almost indecent.

She jumps up, excusing herself. In the hall, she presses a finger to her ear. “Sara. Ray is being _seduced_.”

Sara's answer is immediate, if more bored sounding than Ava feels is appropriate for the gravity of the situation. “And?”

“He's being seduced by a redhead! You told me to look after him!”

“Why do you care? And why does it matter what colour her hair is? Ray’s a big boy. He can do what he wants.”

Ava makes a frustrated noise. “You're impossible.”

“Ohhh,” Sara says. “I get it. You're jealous. Wanted him all to yourself.”

Ava can hardly even react to that with anything but disgust. “Sara!”

Sara's laughing at her again. “He's hot. I figure, if anyone's going to turn you...”

“Oh my god, Sara, just tell me what to do.”

“Leave him be. He's lonely as hell. If some secretary wants to fuck him, why not?”

That was definitely not the answer Ava was looking for.

“I can't just _leave_ him.”

“Sure you can. Is she hot?”

Ava considers. “I mean, yeah, definitely.”

“Then leave him. Lord knows I’ve—”

“Don't finish that sentence, Sara. I don't want to hear it,” Ava says, because she's already stressed, and she doesn't need to think about all of the sex Sara used to have on missions before they met.

The door to the lounge is open, and by leaning back slightly, Ava can see in. Betty is intensely studying a piece of paper she is holding, studiously ignoring the two people next to her, and the redhead has gotten even closer to Ray, if that was even possible, her hands now on his tie. 

She shifts slightly, and she's practically in his lap. Ray's hands are in the air, his face stricken.

And then the woman turns her head slightly, and Ava suddenly knows who she looks like.

“Fuck, Sara," she breathes. "I think it's Taylor Swift.”

“What?” Sara asks, her voice incredulous.

“I think the time demon has put Taylor Swift here, and I think she is currently seducing Ray.”

Sara scoffs. “The singer? No way. Why would she be seducing Ray? It's just a lookalike. Taylor Swift is blonde, anyway.”

“No, Sara I'm not kidding. I think she's the problem.”

“Stop fucking with me, Aves. You're going to have to try harder next time.”

“I'm not fucking with you," Ava says, but then the line goes dead. When she tries to re-open it, there's no answer.

Apparently the ‘you can't turn off your earpiece’ rule doesn't apply to the captain.

And then all of a sudden, Ray is at her side, having apparently escaped from the clutches of the woman that Ava is now almost certain is Taylor Swift.

He has a scared look in his eyes, as if he just escaped from something horrible. Taylor Swift had been wasted on him.

“I think that woman was trying to seduce me.”

Ava looks at him. “You think so?” she says, her voice dry. “Because I wasn't sure.”

“Yeah, I mean, she kept touching my tie and my arm and— and that was sarcasm, right?” His hand goes to his neck, a nervous gesture, one that is painfully familiar to her.

They're probably more similar than she would like to admit. Maybe that's why she feels so protective of him. 

“Yes, Dr. Palmer, it was.”

“You can just call me Ray, you know,” he says, his voice more upbeat, regaining some of its usual positivity—but he's also obviously still wary around her.

She sighs. “Fine. Did she say _why_ she was trying to seduce you, Ray?”

He seems buoyed by the use of his name. “Yeah,” he nods. “Once I managed to get her to stop."

Of course Ray got her to stop. Taylor Swift (or, at the very least, her lookalike) had tried to seduce him, and he'd stopped her.

Ava likes to think that if she had been in the same position, she would've done the honorable thing, but she's not entirely certain she would've.

"Once I got her to stop, she told me that someone told her to. To get their agency the deal. The sixties really were a terrible, terrible place,” he says, his expression shocked, like he'd never considered that might be a thing that would happen.

Ava has spent too much time thinking about things like this for it to be anything close to a surprise. Too much time thinking about all the other versions of her back in 2213, and all the things they're probably having to be doing.

People will do anything to earn money—including literally _make_ other people, as she has learnt.

So it's not surprising that a bunch of executives in the sixties would decide to send in hot redheads to convince their clients to sign deals.  

"You're just now realizing that? That the past is terrible?" Ava asks, raising an eyebrow.

(And the future, she thinks, but that's a thought for another time, when they're not in the middle of a mission.)

"No, no, I mean— no," Ray says, nerves creeping back into his voice.

She can't help but smile, can't help but want to reassure him, because every word he says, the more she sees herself in him. "I'm kidding."

His face breaks into a relieved smile to match hers.

"Mostly," she adds, because this dress is still making her angry.

He grimaces, then looks back at the woman inside. "I also got... kinda weirded out. She looks like someone, I swear."

“Taylor Swift?” Ava suggests, deadpan.

“Wait, how did you know who I was thinking of?” Ray asks, apparently not getting it yet. Then his eyes widen. “Oh, wow. That's _actually_ Taylor Swift, isn't it? She's the problem.”

“Yep,” Ava says. “Now, if we could just convince Sara that.”

 

Half an hour later, they have Taylor Swift standing in front of them. She doesn't seem to _know_ that she's Taylor Swift, with no apparent realisation that she's in the wrong time.

When they’d persuaded her to come with them, she’d looked at them, slightly confused, but had gone with them anyway.

They’d found a quiet room, and had all bundled in.

“Huh,” Sara says, examining her, curiosity on her face. “I guess it _is_ Taylor Swift. I thought you were exaggerating.”

“I don't exaggerate,” Ava says, gritting her teeth.

“I’ll believe you next time,” Sara replies, patting Ava on the arm.

“You're terrible.”

“It's part of my charm,” Sara says, flashing her a grin before turning back to Taylor. “So, Taylor, who put you here?” Sara asks, hands on her hips.

“Who's Taylor?” Taylor asks. “I'm Alison.”

“That's Taylor Swift’s—” Ava stops, wondering if she wants to admit to this knowledge, knowledge that she isn't even sure how she knows.

“What, Ava?” Sara prompts.

“That's Taylor Swift’s middle name. The demon obviously didn't try very hard to disguise her.”

Sara peers at her a little closer. Taylor blinks. “Looks like some sort of memory spell. I'm sure Constantine can reverse it.”

“Does he have a phone yet?”

Sara grins. “Better.” Her finger goes to her ear. “Gideon, send John our coordinates.”

Thirty seconds later, Constantine appears, stepping through a portal.

“You gave him a _courier_?” Ava asks, and Sara at least has the sense to look a tiny bit guilty. “ _Him_?”

“No need to be jealous, love,” Constantine starts, and then he's properly in the room, and he registers Taylor. “Holy shit, that’s Taylor bloody Swift.”

Of course _Constantine_ is the only one who recognizes her straight away.

“What's she doing here, then?”

“Time demon. Memory spell,” Ava says, her hands clasped behind her back to stop her from wanting to strangle him.

“Well,” he says, “I’ll take her, fix her up, and she'll be back singing songs in no time.”

Ava steps forward. “No way are you taking her alone.”

Through all of this, Taylor has been looking around, still looking confused.

“You want to come with me, Director?” John asks, raising an eyebrow. The way he says her title makes it clear he's not using it as an honorific.

“I don't trust you,” Ava replies. “I'll go with her if I have to.”

“What am I going to do to a pop star?”

“You're a _wizard_. You could do _anything_.”

John shrugs. “Fair enough. Come with me if you must.”

Ava looks at Sara. “Can you clean up around here? Do the memory wipes?”

Sara nods.

Ava sighs, then moves forward to pull Taylor with her. “Let’s go… Alison.”

John opens a portal. Before they step through, Taylor turns, wiggles her fingers at Ray, and maybe she wasn’t _just_ interested in him because she'd been told to be.

Ray visibly balks.

  
An hour later, Constantine, under strict supervision, has reversed the spell. The hair colour goes with it, but not the clothes.

The real Taylor Swift opens her eyes, and her memories are clearly back, all memory of her trip to the sixties gone, because she spots a reflection of herself in a mirror, sees her outfit, and is incredibly confused.

“How did I get… _here_? Wherever here is? Who are you? Why am I not in Manchester? I'm supposed to be in Manchester.”

“England?” John asks, before Ava can stop him, his interest clearly piqued.

“Yes, England. I'm touring. Why am I not there?”

John starts to open his mouth, and Ava shoves him. “Don't worry about anything, Taylor,” she says, and then memory wipes her.

It's not hard to figure out where she should be. The bureau’s tech may not be able to figure out time demons, but it's perfectly adequate for hacking into the tour schedules of famous singers.

Nor is it difficult to figure out the exact moment she was pulled out of the time stream, now that they know specifically what they're looking for.

In no time, she's back in her dressing room.

Constantine crouches down as they are about to leave, wiping some paint off the floor, examining it as they step back through a portal onto the ship.

He stares at it for a couple of seconds, then comes to a conclusion. “We don't need to worry about her. This was a one time thing. Really low level demon. Probably used all of its energy putting her there. It wouldn't have had any aims other than a bit of mischief.”

He holds his hand out to Ava to show the paint. She steps back.

“It won't hurt you. It's already fading from being touched.”

He's right. The paint is melting away in front of her eyes.

“Just don't touch me.”

“As you wish,” he says, and then winks.

“I hate you.”

“I'm sure I'll grow on you.”

“Yes,” Ava says, a mocking smile on her face. “Like a parasite.”

He rolls his eyes at her, and she would say something, but then he's speaking again. “We don't need to worry about her. I very much doubt she's in any more danger. In all likelihood, the demon that targeted her is dead from exertion.”

“So, we won't have to keep an eye on her?” Ava asks.

John looks at her, a smirk on his face. “As much as I'm sure you'd enjoy that, Director, it won't be necessary.”

Ava doesn't even have anything to say back to that that wouldn't make it worse. He nods, knowing he's won, and then is gone, making a big show of using the courier.

  
Ava finds the rest of the team on the bridge.

“She back where she should be?” Sara asks.

Ava nods. “Taylor Swift has no memory of any of it.”

“Good.”

Sara moves closer, her hand snaking around Ava’s waist. “Thanks for not letting Ray get seduced by a world famous pop star.”

Ava looks down. “No thanks to you.”

“In my defense, Ray really does need to get laid.”

“But not by Taylor Swift,” Ava says.

“No,” Sara agrees. “Not by Taylor Swift.” She pauses. “If anyone's sleeping with Taylor Swift it's going to be—”

“—me,” Ava interjects.

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but I don't think she's available, so I guess I'll accept a substitute.”

**Author's Note:**

> It is Very Important to you all that you understand that ray and Ava are going to be Best Friends like once ray stops being scared they're going to be such good friends okay
> 
> Once again, still not part of my official series, but in good news.... I think my writers block on the AUs might be going a little bit so there's an update on that.
> 
> Mr & mrs smith still completely set to update on monday, so see you then!
> 
> @_avasharpe/directoravasharpe.tumblr.com


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